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1.“Nightmare”
After the war, life became relatively "easier," if that’s the right word. Sure, there’s still plenty of rehabilitation, training, and cleanup. The trauma lingers, with countless conversations and nightmares to work through—those nightmares, they’re the worst. But at least no one is fighting for their life anymore, and the greatest villains in Japan’s history have been eliminated.
Yet, the nightmares remain the worst.
Katsuki often finds himself jolting awake on the verge of an explosion, his left arm numb, scars itching, sweat dripping, chest and head pounding. The memories haunt him—those few moments before death, etched into his mind with every vivid detail. He can recall staring down his enemy, the rush of blood, the cacophony of screams, fighting, and destruction echoing in his ears. His own explosions seemed deafening, his body overwhelmed by sensory overload. He remembers the precise moment he died, or worse, images of his friends—though he'd never admit they’re his friends—hurt or dead. These nightmares replay endlessly, but tonight, something different disturbs his sleep.
His heart races, but there’s no imminent threat. Instead, he finds himself under a clear blue sky, lying on the roof of a car with his legs dangling, soft music drifting from the open window. Someone is with him—Katsuki can’t quite figure out who. He hears the car door open and feels the presence of this unknown person as they step out. Katsuki tries to turn his head, but he’s stuck, unable to see who it is. The person leans against the car, mumbling incoherently—just meaningless noise. Katsuki wants to groan and get off the roof, but he remains paralyzed. Time stretches on strangely, his heart still hammering in his chest as if he’s just run a marathon. The person shuffles closer, resting their elbows on the car roof next to Katsuki’s head and gently running their fingers through his hair.
What the hell? Katsuki never lets anyone touch his hair. Maybe it’s the thought of dirty hands or his aversion to physical contact, though he’d never admit the latter. The hand continues to stroke his hair softly, and Katsuki contemplates turning and biting the hand that’s tenderly assaulting him—but then the person speaks again.
“Move over.”
The voice is a man’s, and there’s something hauntingly familiar about it, though it’s far too gentle for Katsuki to immediately recognize. Running on autopilot, he curses the dream that has him paralyzed, and sits up, sliding over to make room for the man beside him. The breeze is refreshing, the moment feels oddly serene, so why is his heart still racing? He feels warm—not the usual sweaty, quirk-induced heat, but a soft, tingling warmth in his chest, almost as if he’s anticipating something. Finally, his stubborn dream self decides to turn and look at the man sitting next to him, only to come face to face with none other than Shouto God Damned Todoroki.
The man speaking to him so gently was Todoroki? And why are they lying on the roof of a car like some scene straight out of a cheesy romantic drama? As if the universe is confirming this bizarre reality, Shoto turns to him, and in true rom-com fashion, reaches over to place his hand on Katsuki’s. What the hell. What the hell. What the hell.
He feels his cheeks heat up. Blush. Katsuki Bakugo is actually blushing as Todoroki tenderly rubs his thumb over the rough skin of Katsuki's knuckles, a small smile playing on Shoto’s lips. A faint blush colors Todoroki’s own face as well. Katsuki quickly turns to face the view—where the hell are they? The bright blue sky is gradually fading to a soft orange. The music from the car still plays, and somehow Katsuki can hear it over the pounding of his blood in his ears.
Then, as if in slow motion, he feels a warm hand gently turning his face, and he watches in disbelief as his body starts to lean in—
“NO—No. No….”
He jolts awake, drenched in sweat. He’s in bed. Not on a car roof. In bed, alone. His heart is still racing, his chest heaving, his throat dry.
What the hell kind of nightmare was that?
Rubbing his palms over his face and pushing his hair back, Katsuki got up, cringing at the sweat-soaked sheets, and headed out to get some water. The hallway was dark as he padded quietly toward the kitchen. What the hell was that nightmare? Why on earth had he been with half-and-half, and why were they about to kiss? He remembered a few odd pangs in his chest when it came to Todoroki, but he never imagined he’d have a dream like that involving him.
The cold kitchen floor sent a shiver up his spine as he fumbled for the light switch, letting out a sigh.
“Hi.”
“FUCK!”
The lights suddenly blazed on, and Katsuki nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of the voice that had just haunted his nightmare—this time, though, it lacked the warmth, instead carrying the usual monotone of the weirdo.
“What the hell is your problem, Icy-Hot?! It’s fuckass o’clock in the morning—why the hell are you sitting in the dark kitchen?” Katsuki shouted, waving his hands angrily as he made his way to grab a cup. He glanced over at Todoroki as he filled the glass with water. The two-toned-haired boy was sitting there with a blanket wrapped around him, his phone resting on the counter in front of him.
“My room felt stuffy. I wanted to read.”
Goddamn , this guy was a freak, Katsuki thought. Todoroki’s bed hair was sticking up in all directions, and the oversized blanket was wrapped around him like a cocoon. There was a soft, sleepy look in his eyes. He looked… cute. Cute? What the hell was Katsuki thinking? That damn dream was really screwing with his head.
“What woke you up?” Shouto asked, his voice low—almost a whisper—as he looked up at the blonde.
“Had a—a nightmare or whatever,” Katsuki huffed, then sat down next to him.
“Wanna talk about it?”
Talk about a weird romantic nightmare where they almost kissed? Yeah, right. Katsuki turned to Shouto with a scowl, but the other boy just stared back, unfazed, locking eyes with him.
Katsuki usually hated when people stared at him—he wasn’t fond of having eyes directly on his own—but for some reason, he didn’t mind it when it was Shouto. He never really noticed before how Todoroki’s eyelashes matched his hair, each one two-toned. He had slight eye bags and a few beauty marks scattered across his face. Why the hell am I staring at him? And why was Shouto staring at him? Katsuki met his gaze, but soon realized that Shouto wasn’t looking into his eyes—his gaze was focused lower.
Shouto was staring at his lips.
Without thinking, Katsuki licked them, and Shouto’s eyes flickered, quickly jumping back up to meet his.
Shit .
Katsuki quickly and clumsily stood from his seat, his hands slipping as he dropped the cup he was holding. He hurriedly turned and walked away, trying to escape the moment as fast as possible.
What he didn’t see was Shouto watching him go, a puzzled expression crossing his face as he glanced down at his own hand, eyebrows furrowing. With a soft huff of laughter, Shouto bent down to clean up the mess Katsuki had left behind.
As Shouto wiped up the spilled water, a small smile tugged at his lips. Maybe, just maybe, there was something more beneath Katsuki's rough exterior. Something worth exploring. He stood up, tossing the towel aside, and quietly murmured to himself, “Interesting.”
2.Rehabilitation
Katsuki swore to himself that he’d never think about that night again. He convinced himself it was just some bizarre, fake moment—totally not real, didn’t happen.
But he broke that promise more times than he could count.
It’s only been two days, and he keeps catching himself remembering the dream. More than once, he’s absentmindedly touched his lips during class, with Todoroki’s eyes creeping into his mind. Every time it happens, he shakes his head, coughs, and feels an uncomfortable warmth spreading through him.
His days are now peppered with random flashes of the two-toned-haired boy. As he walks down the hall, arm in a sling, dreading the upcoming physical therapy session, he suddenly spots the familiar red and white hair that’s been occupying his thoughts.
What is HE doing here?
Katsuki stops in his tracks, eyebrows furrowing, his mood instantly souring. All he wants to do is turn around and get the hell out of there. But, of course, luck isn’t on his side. A nurse steps out of a door and calls his name.
Hearing the blondes name being called, Todoroki looks up from his phone, searching for him. When he spots Katsuki, he lifts a hand in a small wave.
FUCK HIM, FUCK HIM, FUCK HIM! WHY IS THIS FREAK TEASING ME? WHAT IS WRONG WITH HIM?
Katsuki rushes into the room the nurse called him from, ignoring the wave, nearly missing the brief smile that slipped from Todoroki’s face.
Inside the room, Katsuki tries to steady his breath, leaning against the wall for a moment before pushing off and making his way to the therapy table. His mind races, replaying that moment in the hallway. Why did Todoroki have to be there? And why the hell did he wave like that?
He sits down, glaring at nothing in particular as the nurse begins her routine check-in. Her words are just background noise, drowned out by the pounding in his ears and the frustration bubbling inside him. He wants to forget everything—about the dream, about the weird tension he’s feeling—but no matter how hard he tries, it keeps coming back.
The session drags on, each movement of his injured arm accompanied by a different memory of the past few days. Todoroki’s eyes, his stupid soft smile, the way he waved like they were… friends? The weirdo might think so but no, it’s all wrong. Katsuki grits his teeth, pushing through the exercises with a force that makes the nurse raise an eyebrow.
When the session finally ends, he practically bolts out of the room, determined to avoid any further encounters. But as he steps into the hallway, he freezes. Todoroki is still there, leaning against the wall as if he’s been waiting.
“What the hell are you still doing here?” Katsuki snaps, the words coming out harsher than he intended.
Todoroki looks up, unfazed by the tone. “I thought I’d walk with you.”
“Walk with me? What for?” Katsuki’s fists clench at his sides, his frustration barely contained.
Todoroki shrugs, pushing off the wall. “Because I can. And because it seems like you could use the company.”
Katsuki scoffs, trying to mask the way his pulse quickens. “I don’t need company, especially not yours.”
But Todoroki doesn’t back down. Instead, he steps closer, his expression calm but serious. “Maybe not. But I’m here anyway.”
Katsuki glares at him, trying to find the words to push him away, but all he can manage is a frustrated grunt as he turns and starts walking down the hallway. Todoroki falls into step beside him, not saying a word.
As they walk, the silence stretches on, heavy with unspoken thoughts. Katsuki’s mind is a mess, torn between wanting to shove Todoroki away and the strange, unfamiliar comfort of having him there. He sneaks a glance at him, catching the determined set of his jaw, the way his eyes are focused straight ahead.
Then, unexpectedly, Todoroki’s gaze flickers down to Katsuki’s lips. It’s brief—just a split second—but Katsuki notices it. His heart skips a beat, and his mouth suddenly feels dry. The memory of his dream floods back, making his chest tighten.
Finally, Katsuki breaks the silence, his voice low and tense. “Why the hell are you doing this?”
Todoroki meets his eyes again, and for a moment, Katsuki is certain he’s going to look at his lips again. But instead, Todoroki’s gaze holds steady, his expression softening just a fraction. “Because I care.” For fucks sake.
Katsuki’s breath catches in his throat, and for a moment, he’s at a loss for words. He looks away, his heart pounding as he tries to process what Todoroki just said. They walk in silence the rest of the way, the tension between them thick but no longer uncomfortable. Katsuki can feel the weight of Todoroki’s presence beside him, and for reasons he can’t quite understand, he doesn’t mind it as much as he thought he would.
3.Pots and Pans
Katsuki stood at the kitchen counter, his hands moving with practiced precision as he chopped vegetables, the knife hitting the cutting board with sharp, rhythmic thuds. His face was set in a scowl, though there was an underlying determination in his movements. Despite his constant grumbling, he was focused on making sure everything was perfect.
“Why the hell am I the one cooking for you lazy bastards?” Katsuki muttered, his voice carrying across the room. He wasn’t really expecting an answer, but that didn’t stop him from expressing his irritation.
Around the dining table, Kirishima, Sero, Mina, Denki, Jirou, and Shinso were lounging, laughing, and doing absolutely nothing to help Katsuki cook. They were more than used to Katsuki’s grouchy attitude, ignoring the harsh words and tone and knowing that the blonde’s actions spoke louder than words. It had become somewhat of a tradition—Katsuki complaining about making food, while secretly taking pride in the fact that everyone loved what he cooked, and seeing his friends, again dont tell them he considered them that , enjoy the food.
“Because you’re the only one who doesn’t burn water,” Jirou teased, earning a snicker from the others.
“Damn right,” Katsuki shot back without missing a beat, flipping something in the pan with a little more flair than necessary. “You losers would die without me.”
Without Katuski noticing, the door to the common area opened, and Shouto walked in, his expression as composed as ever. He glanced around the room, taking in the scene before slowly making his way over to the table. The group greeted him with casual nods, and Mina waved him over.
“Todoroki! Fantastic timing. Bakugo’s making dinner, soooo you should join us!!” Mina said with a grin.
Shouto’s gaze shifted to the kitchen where Katsuki was busy at work, then back to the group. “Sounds good,” he said simply before walking over to the kitchen, his curiosity piqued.
Katsuki, completely absorbed in his cooking, didn’t notice Shouto approach,
“Mind if I join for dinner?” Shouto asked, his tone neutral as always, but there was a hint of something in his eyes—something like interest.
Katsuki jumped slightly, startled by the sudden question. His hand slipped, and before he knew it, his fingers brushed against the hot pan. He cursed under his breath, jerking his hand back. “Damn it, Todoroki! Fucking freak why are you so quiet!”
Shouto’s eyes widened, concern flashing across his usually calm features. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, fuck,” spooky mother fucker Katsuki grumbled, though his tone was less harsh than usual. He quickly turned off the stove and ran his hand under cold water, his irritation simmering just below the surface.
Without waiting for permission, Shouto gently took Katsuki’s hand, inspecting the burn with a focused expression. “You should be more careful,” he said quietly, his voice laced with genuine concern.
Katsuki wanted to pull his hand away, to tell Shouto to mind his own business, but something about the way Shouto was handling his hand made it difficult to be his usual abrasive self. “Yeah, yeah, I know,” he muttered, avoiding Shouto’s gaze.
Shouto retrieved a first aid kit from a nearby cabinet and began carefully bandaging Katsuki’s hand. Katsuki stood there, watching in silence as Shouto worked with surprising gentleness. The room seemed to grow quieter, the sounds of their friends chatting in the background fading as Katsuki became more aware of how close Shouto was. What is this bastard doing…
And why is he letting said bastard do this???
As Shouto finished bandaging the burn, he lingered for a moment, still holding Katsuki’s hand. The two of them stood there, the air between them heavy with something unspoken. Katsuki finally glanced up, and to his surprise, he found Shouto staring at him—not at his eyes, but at his lips.
For a moment, Katsuki’s heart skipped a beat. He wasn’t sure what to make of the intensity in Shouto’s gaze, and he certainly didn’t know why his own eyes were drawn to Shouto’s mouth in response. The moment stretched on, neither of them saying anything, both caught in the strange tension between them.
What the fuck
“Are you two gonna kiss, or…?” Denki’s voice broke through the silence, laced with playful teasing.
WHAT THE FUCK
Katsuki snapped out of it, yanking his hand away as his face turned bright red. “Shut the hell up!” he barked, more flustered than angry. He shot a glare at Denki, who was grinning widely, clearly enjoying himself.
“Aw, don’t be shy, Bakugo,” Jirou added with a smirk. “It’s okay if you’re into the whole quiet, brooding type.” She waved her hands around signaling over at the boy still standing in Katsuki’s personal space.
Katsuki’s scowl deepened as he clenched his fists. “I’m not into anything! I’m just trying to cook here, and you idiots keep interrupting me!” he snapped, trying to regain his composure. He turned back to the stove, his movements a bit more aggressive than before, trying to ignore the way his heart was still racing.
Shouto, on the other hand, simply blinked, his expression returning to its usual calm, though there was a faint blush on his cheeks. “I was just making sure you were okay,” he said, more to himself than anyone else, as he stepped back to give Katsuki some space.
“Yeah, well, I’m fine,” Katsuki muttered, though his tone lacked its usual bite. He focused on the food, trying to push the awkward moment out of his mind. But even as he worked, he couldn’t help but feel the lingering effects of Shouto’s touch and the intensity of their earlier stare, and he turned his head over his shoulder to watch as Shouto walked out of the kitchen-living area.
The rest of the evening continued in a similar vein, with Katsuki finishing the meal while the others joked and teased. They eventually settled down to eat, everyone eagerly digging into the food Katsuki had prepared. The conversation flowed easily, the earlier tension seemingly forgotten—at least by most of them.
Katsuki was uncharacteristically slow in eating his food, the others noticed but didn’t comment, too wrapped up in their own discussions. Katsuki, however, couldn’t shake the strange feeling that had settled in his chest since that moment in the kitchen.
Later that night, as Shouto sat in his room, reading a book that wasn’t holding his attention, there was a knock at his door. He looked up, surprised, and called out, “Come in.”
The door creaked open, and to Shouto’s surprise, Katsuki stood there, holding a bowl of food. Katsuki’s expression was as gruff as ever, but there was something softer in his eyes.
“I didn’t make this shit for nothing,” Katsuki said, his tone rough but tinged with something else—something almost vulnerable. “You better fucking eat it.”
For a moment, Shouto just stared at him, taking in the sight of Katsuki standing there, a silly combination of him looking offended and him offering Shouto the bowl. Then, a small smile tugged at Shouto’s lips as he nodded, accepting the food.
“Thanks, Bakugo,” Shouto said, his voice soft.
Katsuki huffed, looking away as he handed over the bowl. “Yeah, fucking.. whatever. Just… don’t let it go to waste.”
Shouto nodded again, and as Katsuki turned to leave, Shouto called out, “You know… I appreciate it.”
Katsuki paused in the doorway, his back to Shouto. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, but then he gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. “Don’t mention it,” he muttered before walking out and closing the door behind him.
Shoto sat down on his bed, looking at the bowl in his hands. A warmth spread through his chest, a feeling he hadn’t expected. Katsuki stood at the other side of the door, hand pressed to his forehead, a stupid blush adorning his face.
fuck.
4.Lets Go Out
It was a rare, sunny afternoon when Shouto approached Katsuki in the common area, his usual calm expression in place. Katsuki was sprawled out on the couch, flipping through a magazine with a bored look on his face. When Shouto stood in front of him, blocking the light, Katsuki looked up with a frown.
“What do you want, Icy Hot?”
“I was wondering if you’d like to hang out in town today,” Shouto said, his voice even and calm, as always. Katsuki raised an eyebrow, surprised by the invitation. Fuck is this guy tryna pull.
“Hang out? With you?” Katsuki asked skeptically, though there was a hint of curiosity in his tone.
“Yes. I thought it might be a good way to relax after all the training,” Shouto replied, his tone completely sincere. He paused, then added, “And I could use some company.”
Katsuki hesitated for a moment, weighing his options. On one hand, he wasn’t exactly the ‘hanging out’ type, especially not with someone as stoic as Shouto. But on the other hand, he didn’t have anything better to do, and the idea of getting out of the dorms was more appealing than he wanted to admit.
Fuck it
“Fine. But don’t expect me to hold your hand or some shit,” Katsuki grumbled as he got up from the couch.
Shouto just nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
---
The town was bustling with activity when they arrived, the streets filled with people enjoying the warm weather. As they walked, they passed by a few shops, and Shouto paused in front of a clothing store, his gaze lingering on the display.
“You gonna go in or keep staring like a dumbass?” Katsuki asked, noticing Shouto’s interest.
Shouto nodded. “I could use some new clothes.”
They entered the store, and Katsuki immediately felt out of place among the racks of stylish outfits. He wasn’t into this kinda clothes, but he could tell that Shouto was looking for something specific. Shouto picked out a few items and headed for the dressing rooms, leaving Katsuki to wait outside.
A few minutes later, Shouto emerged, wearing a simple yet stylish outfit—a fitted shirt and a pair of jeans. He looked great, as usual, but there was something slightly awkward about the way he stood, as if he wasn’t entirely comfortable in his new clothes.
Katsuki couldn’t help it—he snorted, trying to stifle a laugh as he looked at Shouto. “You look like you’re going to a job interview or something,” he said, grinning.
Shouto looked down at himself, a small frown forming. “Is it that bad?”
Katsuki shook his head, still chuckling. “No, you look fine. Just… dress more our age you big doofus- and quit acting so damn awkward.”
Shouto’s frown softened, and he nodded. “I’ll try.” He turned back to the dressing room, but not before giving Katsuki a quick, almost embarrassed glance.
Katsuki watched him go, still grinning. There was something endearing about how serious Shouto was about something as simple as trying on clothes. It made him seem more… human.
---
After they left the clothing store, they wandered into an arcade that caught Katsuki’s eye. The place was loud and chaotic, filled with the sounds of machines, laughter, and the occasional cheer as someone hit the jackpot. Katsuki’s competitive side immediately kicked in.
“Bet I can win more tickets than you,” Katsuki challenged, his eyes gleaming with excitement.
Shouto raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “You’re on.”
They dove into the games with a fierce determination, moving from one machine to the next in a whirlwind of flashing lights and electronic sounds. Katsuki quickly racked up a substantial number of tickets, his sharp reflexes and quick thinking giving him an edge in most of the games. Shouto, on the other hand, approached the challenge with his usual calm focus, steadily accumulating tickets with an almost methodical precision.
As they played, Katsuki couldn’t help but notice how Shouto’s expression changed subtly when he was in the zone—his eyes narrowing slightly, his lips pressing together in concentration. It was a side of Shouto that Katsuki rarely saw, and it made him appreciate their little outing even more.
By the time they finished, both of them had impressive stacks of tickets, but Katsuki edged out the win by just a handful. He smirked triumphantly as they cashed in their tickets for some small prizes—a couple of keychains and a plush toy that Shouto picked out.
“And like always, I’m still the best,” Katsuki said, holding up his winnings.
Shouto just smiled, a small, genuine smile that made Katsuki’s chest feel a little lighter. “You did well.”
He CANT admit it but damn did he get giddy with the compliment.
As they were about to leave, Shouto’s gaze landed on a photo booth tucked into a corner of the arcade. He paused, his eyes lingering on it with mild curiosity.
“What’s up?” Katsuki asked, noticing the look on Shouto’s face.
“I’ve never been in one of those,” Shouto admitted, nodding toward the photo booth.
Katsuki blinked, surprised. “Seriously? You’ve never been in a fuckin’ photo booth?”
Shouto shook his head. “No.”
Katsuki considered this for a moment, then shrugged. “Well, let’s do it then. Be less of a weirdo and more of a teen.”
They walked over to the booth, and Katsuki slid a few coins into the machine before pulling the curtain closed behind them. The booth was cramped, forcing them to sit close together on the small bench. Katsuki couldn’t help but notice how Shouto’s shoulder brushed against his as they settled in.
Maybe..this was a bad idea.. they were so close.
The screen in front of them flashed to life, counting down to the first picture. Katsuki smirked and threw up a peace sign, while Shouto sat there with his usual calm expression, looking slightly unsure of what to do. The camera clicked, capturing the moment.
“Come on, lighten up dumbass,” Katsuki said, nudging Shouto with his elbow as the countdown for the next photo began. “Do something fun.”
Shouto hesitated, then nodded. For the next picture, he attempted a peace sign by his eye, though it was a bit awkward and stiff. Katsuki laughed, genuinely amused by Shouto’s effort, throwing his own hand up flipping off the camera.
The third picture was about to be taken when Shouto suddenly turned his head, looking at Katsuki with an intensity that took him by surprise. Katsuki, caught off guard, found himself staring back at Shouto, his eyes unconsciously drifting to Shouto’s lips.
Time seemed to slow down, the countdown ticking away as they sat there, inches apart. Katsuki’s heart pounded in his chest as he realized just how close they were. He could feel the warmth of Shouto’s breath against his skin, and for a split second, he wondered what it would be like to close the gap between them. What it would be like for them to kiss.
The camera clicked just as Katsuki quickly looked away, his face flushing with embarrassment. He tried to play it off, but when he glanced back at Shouto, he saw that Shouto’s eyes were still fixed on his lips. The realization made Katsuki’s breath catch in his throat. Shouto’s gaze was intense, focused, as if he was considering something serious. Katsuki felt his pulse quicken, his mind racing with thoughts he didn’t know how to process.
Before either of them could say anything, the final picture was taken, and the booth’s screen went dark. They sat there in silence for a moment, the tension between them thick and almost tangible.
Katsuki cleared his throat, trying to break the awkwardness. “Well, whatever that fuckn’ was…,” he muttered, avoiding Shouto’s gaze as he opened the curtain and stepped out of the booth.
Shouto followed him out, still quiet, though there was a faint flush on his cheeks. They waited for the photo strip to print, and when it did, Katsuki yanked it quickly , half expecting the pictures to reveal his horror of the awkward moment they’d just shared. Sure enough, the third picture showed Shouto staring at Katsuki’s lips, while Katsuki’s expression was one of surprise and nervousness, and the last of the two facing one-another. Katsuki’s face grew even warmer as he looked at it, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he shoved the strip to Shouto, who took it with a contemplative look.
“Interesting,” was all Shouto said as he pocketed the photos.
“Shut the fuck up,” Katsuki grumbled, unsure of what else to say.
---
As the sun began to set, they decided to head back to the dorms. The walk was quieter than it had been earlier, the events of the day still lingering in the back of Katsuki’s mind. Despite the awkwardness, he couldn’t deny that he’d actually enjoyed hanging out with Shouto. It had been… nice, even if it had ended on a strange note. It was a nice date- NOT DATE. NOT A DATE.
When they finally reached the dorms, they paused at the entrance, neither of them quite ready to end the day. Katsuki shifted awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck as he searched for something to say.
“Well, uh… thanks for today, I guess,” Katsuki said, his voice gruff. “It wasn’t shit.”
Shouto nodded, a small smile on his lips. “Thank you for coming with me, Bakugo. I enjoyed it.”
There was a brief pause, the air between them filled with an unspoken understanding. Katsuki glanced at Shouto, noticing the way the soft light from the setting sun highlighted his features. It made his heart skip a beat, and for a moment, he found himself staring at Shouto’s lips again, the memory of the photo booth still fresh in his mind.
Before he could get lost in his thoughts, Shouto spoke again. “Goodnight, Bakugo.”
“Yeah… goodnight, Halfie,” Katsuki replied, his voice quieter than usual.
They exchanged one last look before turning and heading to their respective rooms. As Katsuki walked away, he couldn’t help but think about the day they’d spent together—the laughter, the competition, the awkward moments. And as much as he hated to admit it, he found himself looking forward to the next time they might hang out.
In his room, Shouto pulled out the photo strip from his pocket and looked at the last picture again, his gaze lingering on Katsuki’s expression. A soft smile tugged at his lips as he carefully placed the photo strip in a drawer, the memory of their day together one he wouldn’t soon forget.
5.Couch
The common room was unusually quiet for a Saturday night. Most of their classmates were out, enjoying some downtime in the city, but Katsuki and Shouto had stayed behind. It seems as though Katsuki had been plagued with Shouto at his side (more like blessed, but those words would never be uttered from the blonde’s mouth). It wasn’t something either of them had planned; it just sort of happened. They had both been in the common area when someone had left a movie running on the TV. One thing led to another, and now they were sitting on the couch, side by side, watching the screen in comfortable silence.
The movie wasn’t particularly interesting—some action flick with more explosions than plot—but it was enough to keep them both from leaving. Katsuki leaned back against the cushions, arms crossed over his chest, trying to appear indifferent, though he found himself occasionally sneaking glances at Shouto.
Shouto, for his part, seemed completely absorbed in the movie. His expression was calm, eyes focused on the screen, though there was a slight crease in his brow, suggesting he was thinking more than he was watching. Katsuki tried to focus on the movie, but his gaze kept drifting toward Shouto, his mind wandering.
It started out innocently enough—just a glance, checking to see if Shouto was as bored as he was. But then Katsuki’s eyes fell on Shouto’s lips. They were slightly parted, the soft glow of the TV casting shadows on his face. Katsuki didn’t know why he noticed, but once he did, he couldn’t look away. There was something about the way Shouto’s lips moved when he breathed, the way they seemed almost… inviting.
Katsuki’s heart skipped a beat, and he quickly turned his gaze back to the screen, his face heating up. What the hell was he doing, he tried to shake off the strange feeling in his chest. He crossed his arms tighter, as if that would keep his emotions in check, and scowled at the TV, determined to ignore whatever the hell that was.
But after a few minutes, the curiosity got the better of him. Slowly, cautiously, he let his eyes drift back toward Shouto. To his surprise, Shouto wasn’t looking at the TV anymore. His gaze was fixed on Katsuki, and more specifically, on Katsuki’s lips.
Katsuki’s breath caught in his throat, it's been the millionth time this past week of that happening. For a moment, neither of them moved, the air between them thick with unspoken tension. Shouto’s eyes were half-lidded, his expression unreadable, but there was no mistaking the way he was looking at Katsuki’s mouth—as if he was considering something, something serious.
Katsuki felt his face flush even more, and he quickly looked away, heart pounding in his chest. No way. There’s no way, trying to convince himself that he was imagining things. But the moment he glanced back at Shouto, those gray and blue eyes were still locked onto his lips, as if waiting for Katsuki to make the next move.
“Oi, what the hell are you looking at?” Katsuki demanded, his voice gruffer than he intended. He didn’t mean to sound so defensive, but his heart was racing, and he couldn’t quite keep the nervousness out of his tone.
Shouto blinked, his gaze finally lifting to meet Katsuki’s eyes. For a second, he looked almost startled, as if he hadn’t realized he’d been caught staring. Then, to Katsuki’s surprise, Shouto’s lips curled into a small, almost shy smile.
“Nothing,” Shouto replied, his voice soft and even. But there was a hint of something else there—something that made Katsuki’s heart skip a beat again. “Just… thinking.”
“Thinking, my ass,” Katsuki muttered, trying to sound irritated, though his face was still burning. He crossed his arms even tighter, refusing to look at Shouto again. But he couldn’t stop the flicker of curiosity and… something else from bubbling up inside him.
Shouto didn’t say anything after that, just turned back to the movie, his smile lingering for a moment longer before fading back into his usual calm expression. Katsuki tried to focus on the screen, but his mind was elsewhere, replaying the moment over and over.
For the rest of the movie, neither of them spoke, but the tension in the room was palpable. Katsuki kept his eyes glued to the screen, refusing to look at Shouto again, afraid of what he might find if he did. And yet, he couldn’t help but feel the weight of Shouto’s gaze on him every so often, a reminder that maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t been imagining things after all.
---
As the movie continued to play, the room settled into a comfortable silence. Katsuki tried his best to focus on the action unfolding on the screen, but his thoughts kept drifting back to the moment when he’d caught Shouto staring at his lips, and every time before then. The tension between them still lingered in the air, thick and almost suffocating, but neither of them dared to acknowledge it.
The movie’s explosions and gunfire eventually faded into the background, becoming nothing more than white noise as Katsuki’s eyelids grew heavier. It had been a long day, and despite his efforts to stay awake, he could feel exhaustion creeping up on him. He shifted slightly, trying to find a more comfortable position on the couch, but his body felt heavy and sluggish.
Next to him, Shouto remained still, his gaze still on the screen, though his posture had relaxed. He leaned back against the couch, his head resting on the cushion as the soft light from the TV flickered across his face. Katsuki glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, noting how peaceful he looked, and felt his own body start to give in to the pull of sleep.
Before he realized it, Katsuki’s head began to droop, his exhaustion getting the better of him. Without thinking, he leaned to the side, and his shoulder bumped against Shouto’s. The contact was light at first, but as Katsuki’s body relaxed further, he ended up leaning more heavily against Shouto, his head slowly coming to rest on Shouto’s shoulder.
Shouto didn’t move, didn’t even flinch. Instead, he allowed Katsuki to settle against him, his own head tilting slightly until it rested on top of Katsuki’s. The warmth of Shouto’s body next to his was oddly comforting, and Katsuki, too tired to care about the awkwardness of the situation, let himself sink into the moment.
The movie played on, the sounds blending into a soothing hum as sleep finally claimed them both. The tension that had been so palpable just minutes earlier seemed to dissolve, replaced by a quiet, shared warmth. Katsuki’s breathing slowed, matching the steady rise and fall of Shouto’s chest, and for the first time in a long while, he felt completely at ease.
They remained like that, leaning on each other, their breaths slow and even as they slept. The movie eventually ended, leaving the room in silence, save for the soft sound of their breathing. The dim light of the TV flickered across the room, casting long shadows on the walls as the two of them remained huddled together on the couch.
Hours later, Katsuki stirred, groggily blinking his eyes open. It took him a moment to realize where he was and even longer to realize who he was leaning against. His heart skipped a beat when he noticed Shouto’s head resting on his own, their bodies still pressed together from the long nap they’d accidentally shared.
Katsuki’s first instinct was to jerk away, to put some distance between them before Shouto woke up, but something stopped him. Maybe it was the soft, peaceful ambiance, or the gentle rise and fall of his chest against Katsuki’s shoulder. Whatever it was, Katsuki found himself hesitating, unwilling to break the quiet moment.
Instead, he slowly, carefully shifted his position, trying not to wake Shouto as he settled back against the couch. But as he moved, Shouto’s eyes fluttered open, and he lifted his head slightly, still half-asleep.
“Katsuki…?” Shouto murmured, his voice thick with sleep as he blinked drowsily at him.
Katsuki froze, feeling the blush creep up his neck as he struggled to find something to say. “Yeah… uh, we… fell asleep,” he mumbled awkwardly, his voice softer than usual.
Shouto looked around, slowly piecing together what had happened. A small, sleepy smile tugged at his lips as he turned his gaze back to Katsuki. “Guess we did.”
There was a brief, charged silence between them, the earlier tension from the lip-staring moment returning, but this time it was softer, less intense. Katsuki glanced at Shouto’s lips again, then quickly looked away, feeling the heat rise in his face once more.
But when he dared to look back, he found Shouto watching him with that same calm intensity, his eyes once again drifting to Katsuki’s mouth. This time, the moment wasn’t broken by teasing comments or sarcastic remarks, to hell with Denki and Jirou . It was just them, caught in a quiet, shared moment, too comfortable—or maybe too tired—to do anything about it.
After a few long seconds, Shouto finally spoke, his voice still soft. “You can stay, you know. If you’re still tired.”
Katsuki swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. He wasn’t sure if Shouto meant staying on the couch or something more, but the offer made his heart skip a beat. “Yeah… maybe,” he muttered, his voice almost a whisper. Pre-war Katsuki would definitely be judging current Katsuki, but the blonde was too content in the moment to care.
Shouto nodded, his expression understanding. He didn’t press, didn’t push for anything more. He simply leaned back, allowing Katsuki to settle against him again if he wanted to. And after a moment’s hesitation, Katsuki did just that, leaning back into the warm, quiet comfort of Shouto’s presence.
They stayed like that for a while longer, the world outside the common room fading away as they drifted back into a light sleep. This time, the tension between them felt different—softer, more accepting—as they unconsciously allowed themselves to enjoy the quiet closeness they had found.
+1.Do Something!!!
It was late afternoon, and Katsuki found himself sitting at his desk, textbooks and notebooks scattered around as he tried to focus on the English lesson he was supposed to be giving. But his attention kept drifting to the boy sitting across from him. Shouto Todoroki, one of the smartest students at UA, had asked him for tutoring. Tutoring . In English, of all things.
Katsuki had been skeptical at first. Shouto was freakishly good at everything, including academics, so why the hell would he need help with English? But when Shouto had asked, with that calm, almost earnest look in his eyes, Katsuki couldn't bring himself to say no. And now here they were, going over pronunciation and grammar, and it was becoming increasingly clear that Shouto didn't really need the help.
Why the hell is he doing this? Katsuki frowned, glancing at Shouto out of the corner of his eye. This guy's smarter than half the class, and here he was, wasting his time explaining shit the two-toned boy probably already knows.
But despite his internal grumbling, he continued with the lesson, explaining the nuances of English pronunciation with more patience than he usually showed.
As Katsuki was going through an example, he noticed that Shouto wasn't exactly paying attention to the words coming out of his mouth. Instead, Shouto was resting his chin on his hand, a small smile tugging at his lips as he watched Katsuki.
What the hell is he smiling about? Katsuki was feeling a prickle of irritation mixed with something he couldn't quite identify.
The way Shouto was looking at him-like he was genuinely enjoying himself-made Katsuki's chest tighten in a way that was both uncomfortable and oddly satisfying.
"What the hell are you looking at?" Katsuki demanded, his voice coming out sharper than he intended. The sight of Shouto smiling at him-just sitting there, staring with that soft, almost fond expression-made his heart skip a beat, and he didn't like it. It was distracting, damn it.
Shouto's smile widened just a fraction.
"You're really good at English, Bakugo," he said softly, his tone sincere, as if he was genuinely impressed.
Katsuki felt his face heat up, a blush creeping up his neck as he tried to brush off the compliment. Shit, why is he getting embarrassed over something like this? "Shut up, I'm just doing what I'm supposed to. Now focus."
But as the lesson went on, the air between them seemed to grow thicker with an unspoken tension. Katsuki kept catching Shouto staring at him, and each time, his gaze seemed to linger on Katsuki's lips. It was unnerving, and Katsuki found himself stumbling over his words more than once as he tried to keep the lesson on track.
Why does he keep looking at him like that?
Katsuki thought, growing more frustrated with each passing minute. Is he even paying attention, or is he just...
Katsuki's thoughts trailed off as he realized how much his own focus had shifted-from the lesson to Shouto's gaze, to the way Shouto's eyes kept tracing his lips.
"Okay, so when you're pronouncing this word, you need to-" Katsuki paused, noticing that Shouto's eyes had drifted to his lips again. This time, Shouto didn't even try to hide it, his gaze intense and unwavering.
Katsuki's frustration bubbled over, and he slammed his hand down on the desk, making Shouto blink in surprise.
"Why the fuck have you kept doing that this past week?" Katsuki snapped, his voice laced with exasperation. "You've been staring at my lips every damn time we’ve been together. What the hell is your problem?"
Shouto didn't flinch at Katsuki's outburst.
Instead, he looked at him calmly, as if considering how to answer. Finally, he spoke, his voice soft but firm. "Because I'm attracted to you, Bakugo."
Katsuki's breath hitched. What? He stared at Shouto, his mind racing to catch up with what he'd just heard. Attracted? To him? For a moment, he was too stunned to react, his thoughts a jumble of confusion and disbelief.
This wasn't what he'd expected— hell, he hadn't expected any of this.
"Are you serious right now?" Katsuki finally managed to say, his voice a mix of disbelief and something else he couldn't quite name.
"Yes," Shouto replied simply, his gaze unwavering. "I've been trying to find a way to tell you, but... I didn't know how. So l thought... maybe if I spent more time with you, l'd find the right moment."
Katsuki blinked, his mind reeling. The right moment? What kind of bullshit is that? But as he looked at Shouto, really looked at him, he could see the sincerity in his eyes, the way Shouto was watching him with a mixture of nervousness and hope. It wasn't a joke.
Shouto Todoroki, the calm, collected, ice-cold hero-in-training, was confessing to him. And he'd been trying to do it for a while.
"You... you've been trying to tell me you like me?" Katsuki asked, his voice softer, more uncertain than he intended. This can't be real. Why would he even—
"Yes," Shouto repeated, his voice steady. "I didn't know how you'd react, but I wanted you to know. I'm attracted to you, Bakugo. I've been thinking about it a lot, and... I didn't want to keep it to myself anymore."
Katsuki stared at him, his heart pounding in his chest. Attracted to him. The words echoed in his mind, refusing to sink in. He wasn't used to this-wasn't used to being on the receiving end of someone else's feelings, especially someone like Shouto. It was almost too much to process.
"Why?" Katsuki asked before he could stop himself. The question came out rougher than he intended, tinged with a confusion he didn't quite know how to deal with. "Why me? You could have anyone, so why the hell would you waste your time on me?"
Shouto's expression softened, and he leaned in slightly, his voice gentle. "Because you're strong, Bakugo. You're passionate, and you're always pushing yourself to be better. I admire that about you. And... well, l've started to admire other things about you too.
The way you're always honest, the way you never back down from what you believe in... It's hard not to be drawn to that."
Katsuki felt his face flush again, this time with a mix of embarrassment and something that felt a lot like warmth. What the fuck is he saying? He opened his mouth to retort, to brush off Shouto's words as ridiculous, but he couldn't find the words.
"Shut up," he finally muttered, his voice weak, lacking the usual bite. This is too much. He can't be serious. But he is. He's not joking. Katsuki's hands clenched into fists, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions he wasn't sure how to handle.
"Bakugo," Shouto said softly, breaking through the storm in Katsuki's mind. "I'm not expecting you to feel the same way. I just... I needed you to know."
Katsuki looked at him, really looked at him, and saw the honesty in Shouto's eyes, the vulnerability that was so rarely there. It made something inside Katsuki twist, and he hated it. He hated how much he wanted to believe Shouto, how much he wanted to accept what he was saying.
Fuck this , Katsuki’s frustration finally boiling over. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself before he spoke.
"You're a real pain in the ass, you know that?" he grumbled, but there was no heat in his words. "Making me feel all... weird."
Shouto's lips twitched into a small smile. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, Bakugo. I just... wanted to be honest."
"Yeah, well, honesty's overrated," Katsuki muttered, looking away as he rubbed the back of his neck, trying to calm the racing thoughts in his head. Why is this so hard?
Why can't he just tell him to fuck off like he usually would? But deep down, Katsuki knew why. He didn't want Shouto to fuck off. He didn't want him to go away. In fact, the thought of Shouto leaving, of him not being there, made something inside Katsuki tighten in a way that was almost painful.
"So... what now?" Shouto asked, his voice breaking through Katsuski's thoughts once again.
Katsuki sighed, running a hand through his hair as he tried to think of a response. What now? That was the question, wasn't it? What the hell was he supposed to do now? He wasn't good at this-he wasn't good at dealing with feelings, with emotions. He was good at fighting, at winning, at being the best. But this ? This was new territory.
"I don't know, damn it," Katsuki finally admitted, his voice low and frustrated. "I don't know what the hell to do with this. But... I'm not saying I don't feel anything either. So don't get all mushy on me, alright?"
Shouto's smile widened just a bit, and he nodded. "I won't. But... I'm glad you're not pushing me away."
Katsuki scoffed, though there was no real bite to it. "I'm not a total asshole, you know."
"I know," Shouto said softly. "That's one of the reasons I like you."
Katsuki's heart skipped a beat, and he had to fight the urge to look away again. Instead, he met Shouto's gaze head-on, his jaw set in determination. "Alright, then. If you're serious about this... then let's see where it goes. But don't expect me to go easy on you, got it?"
"I wouldn't have it any other way," Shouto replied, his voice warm with sincerity.
They sat there for a moment, the weight of their conversation settling around them.
Katsuki felt a strange mix of emotions-relief, confusion, excitement, and something else he wasn't quite ready to name. But for once, he didn't feel the need to run from it. He could handle this. He could handle anything.
Finally, Shouto stood up, his expression calm and content. "I should go. It's getting late."
Katsuki nodded, though he didn't quite feel ready for the night to end. "Yeah, I guess it is."
Shouto hesitated for a moment, then smiled.
"Goodnight, Bakugo."
Katsuki watched him turn and head for the door. Shit. He suddenly felt like something was slipping away from him, like he was missing a chance he wouldn't get again. No.
Fuck thinking . He’s not letting him walk out of here after that.
Before he could stop himself, Katsuki shot up from his chair and ran after Shouto, grabbing him by the collar just as he reached the door.
Shouto turned around, surprise flashing in his eyes, but before he could say anything, Katsuki pulled him close, crashing their lips together in a kiss that was all heat and urgency.
Shoto's breath hitched in surprise, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he leaned into the kiss, his hands coming up to grip Katsuki's waist as he kissed him back with a hunger that matched Katsuki's own.
Katsuki broke the kiss just long enough to mutter against Shouto's lips, "Fuck thinking, should've done this the first time I caught you staring at my damn lips."
Shouto's eyes widened slightly, but then a small smile tugged at his lips. "I didn't think you noticed."
Katsuki smirked, his heart racing as he pressed his forehead against Shouto's. "| noticed, alright. And if you think I'm just gonna let you walk out of here after saying all that shit, you're dead wrong."
Shouto's smile softened, and he reached up to cup Katsuki's face with one hand. "I'm not going anywhere," he said quietly, his voice filled with a warmth that made Katsuki's chest tighten in the best way possible.
"Good," Katsuki muttered, his voice rough with emotion he wasn't used to feeling, let alone expressing. He pulled Shouto back into another kiss, this one slower, more deliberate, as if he was trying to make up for all the missed opportunities they'd had.
Somehow, they found their way back to Katsuki's room, the door closing behind them with a soft click. They stood in the middle of the room, breathing heavily as they stared at each other, the weight of their earlier conversation still hanging in the air.
But this time, it didn't feel heavy. It felt like something had shifted, like they were on the verge of something new.
Katsuki felt his pulse quicken, but it wasn't from nerves or uncertainty. It was from anticipation, from the thrill of finally taking action instead of just thinking. "I'm not gonna let you keep staring at me like that without doing something about it," he said, his voice low and serious.
Shouto's gaze softened “wouldn't want you to.”
Katsuki's lips twitched into a smirk, and he took a step closer, his hand sliding around the back of Shouto's neck as he pulled him in for another kiss. This time, there was no rush, no urgency-just the quiet certainty that they were exactly where they were supposed to be.
They kissed like that for a while, slowly exploring the newfound connection between them, each kiss more assured than the last.
And when they finally pulled apart, both of them were smiling, their earlier frustration and confusion replaced by something warmer, something that felt like the beginning of something good.
Katsuki rested his forehead against Shouto's, his breath mingling with Shouto's as they stood there in the dim light of the room.
"So... what now?" Katsuki asked, echoing Shouto's earlier question, but this time with a smirk on his lips.
Shouto chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he met Katsuki's gaze. "Now... we figure it out together."
"Damn right we do," Katsuki muttered, his voice filled with determination. He pressed one last kiss to Shouto's lips, sealing the promise they'd just made.
They spent the rest of the night talking, sharing their thoughts, their feelings, and everything they'd kept bottled up inside. It was new, it was strange, and it was terrifying in its own way, but Katsuki knew one thing for sure-he wasn't going to let this slip through his fingers.
And as they sat there together, the night stretching out ahead of them, Katsuki realized that maybe, just maybe, this was exactly what he'd been waiting for all along.
+.5
The next morning, Katsuki stepped out of his dorm room, stretching his arms above his head as he made his way down the hallway. He was in an unusually good mood, his mind still replaying the events of the previous night with Shouto. There was a lightness in his chest that he wasn’t used to, and despite his usual gruff demeanor, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
As he turned the corner, he nearly collided with Kirishima, who was leaning against the wall just outside his own door. The moment Kirishima saw him, a wide grin spread across his face.
“Morning, Bakugo!” Kirishima greeted, his voice full of its usual energy. “Man, you gotta learn to use your inside voice. I heard everything you and Todoroki talked about last night.”
Katsuki’s eyes widened in shock before his face quickly flushed a deep shade of red. “You what?!” he barked, his voice louder than he intended, his hands instinctively clenching into fists. “What the hell are you talking about?!”
Kirishima chuckled, holding up his hands defensively. “Hey, relax! I’m just saying, these walls aren’t exactly soundproof, y’know? But seriously, I’m happy for you guys.”
Katsuki’s face burned hotter, his embarrassment morphing into anger. “Shut up, you idiot! Mind your own damn business!” he snapped, though his voice cracked slightly with the sheer intensity of his mortification.
Kirishima’s grin only widened. “Come on, Bakugo, no need to be so shy about it! I mean, it’s kinda cute, seeing you all flustered—”
“Cute?!” Katsuki’s temper flared, and before Kirishima could react, Katsuki lunged at him. Kirishima dodged to the side, laughing as Katsuki gave chase down the narrow hallway, his usual self-control completely out the window.
“Get back here, you dumbass!” Katsuki shouted, his voice echoing through the hallway as Kirishima darted around corners, trying to avoid the inevitable explosion of Katsuki’s temper.
Just then, Shouto emerged from around the corner, having just left his own room. He stopped in his tracks, watching with mild amusement as Katsuki chased Kirishima, the two of them weaving in and out of the hallway like a couple of overgrown kids.
Kirishima finally ducked behind a large potted plant near the stairwell, peeking out with a wide grin. “Okay, okay! I give up! Don’t kill me, man!”
Katsuki, panting slightly from the chase, stopped a few feet away, glaring at Kirishima with all the fury he could muster. “Next time, keep your damn mouth shut!” he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest in a weak attempt to regain his composure.
Shouto approached the scene, still smiling faintly. “You don’t have to be so embarrassed, Bakugo,” he said softly, his tone warm and reassuring. “It’s kind of cute.”
Katsuki turned to face Shouto, his blush deepening at the compliment. “Shut up, not you too,” he grumbled, though there was no real heat in his words. He couldn’t stay mad—not when Shouto was looking at him like that, with those calm, understanding eyes. he guessed it was maybe kind-of okay if his new-found boyfriend of sorts called him cute.
Kirishima watched the exchange, still grinning like a fool. “You’ve got a good one, Bakugo. Don’t let him get away!”
Katsuki’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “I swear to god, Kirishima—”
~ !